


In June

by alexcat



Category: Alexander the Great (2003) RPF
Genre: Anniversary, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ptolemy thinks about him every June, on the anniversary of his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In June

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story after my daughter died in June in 2005. I dedicate it to her memory.

IN JUNE

Every June, I think of them both for it does not seem fitting to think of Alexander without Hephaestion. Alexander worked hard to build his empire, then died before he could make it permanent. History will perhaps see me as one who tried to take part of his glory. Maybe I am.

But I loved him as a brother. He *may* have been my brother for all I know. I was certainly told that often enough. Life is not the same without him. It has lost its glory, its sheen. We will never be the men we were when we were *his* men, none of us. He made us more than we were, tied so closely to him that we will all only be remembered as Alexander's Companions.

I live in Egypt now. I have power and wealth. But I am empty more often than not. I turn, expecting to see his smile, or hear him exhort one of us to do more for he knows we can. I expect to see him kiss Hephaestion when he thinks no one looks, or tell Bucephalus what a fine horse he is. I am disappointed.

I stand here and look out to the sea, thinking of other times. I can see the young boy wrestling and angry when he lost, as he did often to Hephaestion, who was just bigger and stronger. He was little but fierce. I see him as an older boy, desperate for approval from his father and knowing that it might never come. I think it was then that he turned to Hephaestion from whom he sought approval.

Hephaestion was handsome, tall and dark-haired to Alexander's smaller, fairer form. Though not born to a royal family, he made himself Alexander's family in ways none of the rest of us could. I remember how they looked at one another even as boys and I wish I had had one love in my own life like that.

Alexander! How I miss him! Today of all days, I miss him the most. I think back often to that day, the day he departed this world. None of us really thought he would die; I'm not sure we even thought he was really mortal at all.

But he did and left us to fight it out among ourselves. And fight we did, like hungry mongrels for every scrap of his power that we could find. I am ashamed of how we all acted.

I often wonder if he and Hephaestion met in that other world. I wonder if they even cared about what we did to Alexander's empire. I doubt it. Perhaps they ride on a large black horse as they did when they were but boys, Alexander in front and Hephaestion hanging onto him with one arm as they raced across the open fields.

Perhaps someday I shall be allowed to see them again, to ride my own horse beside them in the warm summer wind.

Every June, I think of him.

THE END


End file.
